We Can Dance Until We Die, Literally
by raindropdreamer
Summary: ICONic Boyz are on edge when one of the dance crews is found dead before they hit the stage. But when ghosts of three of the girls invade their hotel room, will the boys run away, or run into their arms?
1. Prologue

**I have wanted to work on this story for ages. I know, it may be a little late to make an ICONic Boyz story, but I'm not really thinking about it. Are you?**

**Warning: This chapter is just the prologue, so it's showing only showing my original characters. Don't worry, the next chapter is going to be from the ICONic perspective.**

**Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Prologue<strong>

**P.O.V: Drippy**

"Will you cut that out!" I practically yelled, clutching the tray of homemade soda floats that were two seconds away from spilling. "You're gonna break something!"

Chloe immediately stopped in her tracks, bringing her leg back down to the ground, making a sharp _clink _with her tap shoes. She began staring at me with the same dramatized expression of a kicked Chihuahua. Her thin, purple lipstick-colored lips began to pop out, looking as if she was about to cry.

I rolled my eyes at the sight. "Clo, if that didn't work with me when you were five, what makes you think it will work with me now?"

She slumped her tiny shoulders over in defeat. All of my teammates sprawled out on the floor began to chuckle, loving how adorable my 10-year-old sister looked.

"I'm getting it higher now," Chloe said. She'd been working on her high-kicks and bucks for days, but it seems that all that she's accomplished is scuffing up almost every floor in our house and putting her foot through a bedroom window.

"I can see that, sis" I answered, being nice. "But we don't need to practice during our monthly shindigs. We're just having fun for tonight."

Olivia, who was stretched out over the floor, looked at me laughing. "Drippy, did you just say _shindig_?" she asked, her southern accent seeping through.

Hauna joined into the laughter. "This isn't _That Seventies Show, _honey._"_

Everyone, including me joined into the laughter. "My Basement, My Soda Floats, I can say whatever geeky slang words I want.

My teammates have been calling me "Drippy" for years. I can't for the life of me remember where it originated from, but I figured that it didn't matter. Anything was better than my God-awful real name, _Demetria_.

I was in the basement of my house, hosting our bimonthly Movie Night. We've had these going on for two years now, since we first we made our makeshift dance team official. This one right here, was officially our 50th, and was going for sure to be our most memorable one.

After I handed everyone their mug of ice cream, each filled with a different soda flavor, I decided that it was time to tell them.

"Okay, guys," I started. "Before I put in the movie, I want to tell you guys something. I'm pretty sure you guys noticed how our movie night was held a little early, right?"

"Yeah," Holly interrupted. "We always have them on a Friday night?" She pulled out her phone. "Why does my calendar say Tuesday?"

Scarlet gave her a usual aloof look. "Sweetie, it's _Thursday._"

Holly's big blue eyes became wide with confusion, as she put a small hand through her auburn hair. "Whaaat?" she asked confused.

Irritated, Scarlet put Holly's phone closer to her face. "That's how you spell _Thursday_."

In revelation, a big smile went across her face. "Ooooh! Okay!"

I couldn't help but chuckle. Holly may not have been the sharpest tool in the shed, but she sure was cute.

"Anyway," I continued on the original subject. "I decided to set up a little earlier, because I just couldn't wait to tell you this."

I paused a bit to add more suspense in my story.

" WE'RE GOING TO BE CONTESTANTS ON AMERICA'S BEST DANCE CREW!"

I was met by surprised screams, some girls shaking and bouncing as if they were having convulsions. The room was covered with a bunch of loud outbursts and constant questions.

" Shut up!"

"Are you serious?"

"They liked our DVD?"

"They loved it!" I answered them. "I got the call this morning, saying that our dance style was 'Fresh and Unique'. They said that our plane rides are scheduled to L.A. in just 4 weeks."

"Oh my God, I can't believe that this is real." Scarlet said, showing emotion on her face for the first time in ages.

"Guys, were gonna be on T.V.!" Chloe shouted.

"I don't think they ever had a tap dancing crew before, did they?" Olivia asked.

After 10 minutes of garbled conversations and excitement, Scarlet interrupted.

"Wait a second, guys," she said in a loud, usually monotone voice, combing a hand through her long, jet-black hair. "We seemed to have overlooked something. What's our _name_ going to be?"

"We have to change our names?" Holly said in a panic. "But I like 'Holly'!"

"She _means_" Olivia explained, "the name for our dance group."

Holly got a relieved look on her face.

"Seriously guys," Scarlet said. "When we perform on that stage for the first time, we can't have Mario Lopez first introduce us as 'The dorky tap-dancers from Memphis."

"Does anybody have any suggestions?" I asked.

The group of girls in front of me were silent for the first time that night.

Chloe, who was relaxed in Olivia's lap, was the first one to speak, "How about 'Chicks with Clicks?'" she offered.

Hauna, the owner of the most perverted mind in the world, burst into laughter. "Yeah, that's not gonna work." she managed to choke out.

"Why not," Chloe said, confused with what was so funny about her idea.

"Because, darlin'," she began. "It sounds like 'Chicks with Cli-"

"HAUNA!" everyone shouted. Olivia immediately threw her hands over my sister's ears.

"What? It's true!"

"What's _also _true," Olivia scolded. "Is that there's a _10-year-old_ in the room!"

With that statement put her hands in the air in surrender.

"Okay," I said. "Does anyone else have an _appropriate _name?"

We spent about half an hour throwing out suggestions, but all of them were either too cliché, too long, or was just plainly dorky.

After a while, we all put on our tap shoes and started randomly dancing, hoping that going back to our roots would give us some inspiration to our name.

The room was filled with different _clicks_ and _taps_, all holding different rhythms. During this thinking ritual, part of me was worried when my mom was going to come down and tell us to knock it off.

Immediately, after a series of random shuffle-flap combos, an idea popped into my head, and I clapped my hands loudly to get everyone's attention, making the room silent once again.

"I GOT IT! Ever since we were little, we were always dancing around in someone's basement, right?"

They looked at each other in confusion, but still nodded.

"Well, what if our name had the word "Basement" in it?"

The entire crew began considering it.

"That actually could work." Olivia admitted

"Yeah, it'll sound like one of those upcoming garage bands." Hauna pointed out. "It could make our crew seem really urban and deep."

"But 'Basement What' actually?" Scarlet asked.

We all began throwing out our different ideas.

"Basement Shuffle"

"Basement Flappers"

"Basement Floor-Scuff-ers."

"Basement Slide"

"Basement Ta-"

A huge door slam caused all of us to practically jump out of our skin. After the muffled sound of stomping feet, it revealed to be my mom, her short hair in curlers and her right hand keeping her robe together.

"What is going on in here?" She said, tired and slightly irritated.

"Sorry Mom." I blurted out.

"We were tryin' to come up with a name for our dance crew." Olivia said.

My mom nodded in understanding. "So Demetria told you about the phone call this mornin'?"

"Yes, ma'am," we said in unison, while I cringed at the hearing of my full name.

"Well, congratulations, girls" she said, letting out a yawn. "But please, keep the racket down. I've got work in the mornin'""

"Yes, ma'am" We all said together one last time.

As my mom went back up the stairs, a huge smile developed on my face.

"What's wrong, Drippy?" Chloe asked, quieter than usual.

"_Basement Racket" _was all I said. Those two words caused my friends to jump up and down and let out soft squeals, making sure that they weren't too loud.

"Drippy, you're truly ingenious," Scarlet whispered.

"Let's make a toast to this, girls" Holly offered. Immediately, we all joined into a circle, picking up our soda floats and putting them close to our chests.

"Liv," I said. "Do the honors."

Olivia cleared her throat. "Ten years ago, we met in Dollie's Dance Studio for the first time at five years old. Eight years later, we came together and formed our own tap dancing crew, vowing that one day, we would climb our way to stardom and find our way onto the stage of ABDC. Now, in just four little weeks, that vow will be fulfilled."

Olivia put her Orange Soda float into the center of the circle. "I am Livvy."

Holly put her Sprite float next to Olivia's. "I am Jolly Rancher."

Scarlet put up her Ginger Ale float. "I am Scars."

Chloe put up her Strawberry float. "I am Clover."

Hauna put up her Pepsi float. "I am Lady Za Za."

My Root beer Float was the last to put in. "I am Drippy."

As we held our drinks together, I kept thinking to myself, _We're family. We're sisters. Nothing is ever going to tear us apart. Nothing._

"To Basement Racket" Livvy said. With that, we all yelled together.

"TO BASEMENT RACKET!"

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><p><strong>AWWW! How sweet...<br>Don't get too sentimental. It's all going to go DOWNHILL in the next chapter. You won't see ANY of it coming...  
>DUN DUN DUUNN! <strong>

**Love you guys!**


	2. Happy Days are Over

**Hope you guys enjoyed the prologue.  
>This chapter actually includes the ICONic Boyz.<br>And you guys doubted me. ;)**

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><p><strong>Chapter 1<strong>

_**4 weeks later...**_

**P.O.V: Vinny**

If it's one thing I hate, it's plane rides.

The thing was quaking all through the night, causing me to get hit nonstop with a throbbing headache, and a horrible desire to vomit. The 7-hour ride wasn't only keeping me from getting sleep, but it resulted in whatever sleep I did get to be overflowing with nightmares.

_"Oh, look! It's Twinkle Toes!"_

Visions from my recent school days just couldn't leave me alone. Their taunting words were still so vivid in my mind.

_"Where are your ballet shoes, sweetie?"_

The sickeningly sweet laughter was slamming into my stomach like incredibly long splinters. As much as I wanted to scream various swear words at them, telling them how stupid they were acting, I just couldn't. As if in my dream, my lips were stapled and stitched together.

_"Can't believe we were friends with that fairy..."_

That was what did it. I collapsed onto the blackened ground beneath me, my stomach forming into knots. Suddenly, the ground seemed to have crumbled beneath me, sending me falling into a never-ending chasm, still hearing _their_ disgusting laughter as I went further down, picking up momentum.

_I'm alone, _I remember thinking. _I'm falling...I'm dying..._

_Does anyone even care..._

_or even notice..._

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><p>I was woken up out of my uncomfortable sleep by an unidentified object poking me in the shoulder.<p>

"Vinny..." A familiar voice said. "Graand Maaaan..."

I tried hard to ignore it, trying to sleep through the four hours we have left on this god-forsaken airplane. Of course, my failed attempt was met by an elbow landing, hopefully by accident, into my left eye socket.

"Son of a..." I moaned, grabbing my eye, which was already throbbing."Who is it?" I grumbled.

"Willy Wonka." A sarcastic, wide-wake voice said above me. I looked up to see Mikey, with a laptop on his thighs, waving guiltily at me. _He WOULD be up in the middle of a night with a smile on his face. _I thought.

"Do you have any idea what time it is right now?" I said. Soon after I asked that, I noticed most of the windows were revealing the obnoxious luminance of a rising sun. Along with that, there were the wide, or at least close to wide, awake faces of the rest of my boys in our crew, hovering confusingly over their assigned plane seats.

"_Good morning, passengers." _I heard the flight attendant say over the intercom. "_It is 7:00 Pacific Daylight Time, and our flight seems to be ahead of schedule. We are expected to land into Los Angeles at 7:30. We advise you to return to your assigned seats and secure yourselves. Thank you for choosing Stratos Charter Flights, and enjoy the rest of your flight."_

"That answer your question?" Thomas asked softly from the side of me.

I put my face in my hands, groaning as I repositioned myself in my tiny chair.

"Rough night?" Jason asked.

I really didn't feel the need to explain the nightmarish vision I had last night, so I just mumbled a generic "Yeah."

"What were you guys talking about?" I asked, trying to change the subject.

Madison, getting the hint, contorted his face into a shocked expression. "Oh, dude! You're not going to believe what Mikey saw on the news this morning."

"What?"

"_One of the dance crews died_!" All of the guys said in unison.

It took a while for the news to sink in. "Are you kidding me?"

Mikey set the computer in my lap and tapped the replay button on the video. "We kid you not."

All of us listened to the newscast.

"_Is this a new way of eliminating the competition?" _the newscaster said. _"It was reported in a small town in Memphis, Tennessee that the bodies of 3 teenage girls were found inside a building that once held the suburb's dance studio. The bodies were identified to be members from a tap-dancing group known as __**'Basement Racket'**__. The remaining bodies of the other four members are still missing, holding the possibility that they can still be alive..."_

"Oh my God..." was all I could say. "What sicko kills seven girls all at once?"

The crew mumbled in agreement.

"The youngest member, Chloe Harper, was only _10 years old_." Madison pointed out. "That's like if Louis just suddenly came up dead."

Louis began looking down, Madison's comment seeming to scare him.

I looked down at the computer. "Which one is Chloe?"

"The cute one." Jason said, causing all of us to jerk our heads toward him in shock.

"Damn, No Bones..." Nick chuckled him. Jason looked at him in confusion.

"What? She _is _cute?"

I looked at the list of the girls' names beneath the video, each one having a class photo next to it... I had to admit, Chloe _was_ cute for a 10-year-old. She had big, black-brown eyes that were very close to her even, jet-black bangs. Her russet skin tone had a reddish tone on her cheeks, probably from her strained smile.

"You wanna see cute?" Nick said, grabbing my attention. "Scroll down to Olivia Baker." A smirk appeared on his face. "Now _she's_ hot."

"Wow, Nick" Louis spoke up with a smug. "I had no idea you had a thing for necrophilia."

Nick turned his focus towards him, his face completely falling. "Do you even know what _necrophilia _means, Lou?"

Louis raised up his eyebrows. "Do you?"

While Nick's utter silence at that question left almost everyone chuckling, I was studying Olivia. Her platinum blonde hair flowed past her shoulders in loose ringlets. Her equally pale skin contrasted against her ice blue eyes, making them seem even bigger than they probably were. I had to hand it to Nick. He may have been far too flirtatious for his own good, but at least he had good taste.

I continued to scroll down, becoming suddenly bored at the website, looking at all of the names of the dead girls. Scarlet Monroe, Holly Halloway, Hauna McBride... _Woah._

The very last picture, the oldest girl, caught my eye. _Demetria Harper_. I figured she was the youngest one, Chloe's, older sister. It seemed as though the picture made every feature on her shine. Her glossy, black hair cascaded on the sides of her face in light waves. Her skin tone was the same as Chloe's, but seemed to have more of an abnormal glow to it. Her smile was extremely big, and even more bright than her Jade green eyes.

I began to look at the little information they had on her.

**Name: Demetria Harper  
>Age: 15<br>Eyes: Green  
>Hair: Black<br>Current Status: Missing in Action  
><strong>

"Wow," was all I say.

"Don't tell me you've got the hots for one of them, too?" Mikey said, exasperated, looking at the same picture that I was staring at.

I quickly scrolled back up to the headline of the story. "No," I quickly lied. "She's just...she's pretty."

Mikey was silent for a few seconds. "Yeah," he simply admitted. Suddenly, he pushed the screen closed, cutting off my sights, and took the laptop out of my lap. "Too bad she might be _dead_." he bluntly pointed out.

I blew out the air I was holding in my cheeks. If it's one thing that you can count of Mikey Fusco for, it's brutal honesty.

Without warning, we began to notice that half of the people on the plain were gone, and our mothers that were originally seated near the back of the plane, were in the alley on the side of us.

"Boys, what are you doing?" Jason's mom asked us, looking at us and wondering why we were still in our seats. "The plane doors are open. Get your stuff."

With that, we stepped out for the first time in hours, getting our duffels out from the shelves above us. As we were walking out, I still couldn't get Mikey's comment out of my head.

_Yeah,_ I thought disappointedly. _Too bad._

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><p><strong>Planning on the next chapter coming up either tonight or tomorrow.<strong>

**Remember: REVIEWS WILL MAKE IT COME UP FASTER...**

**Love ya!**


	3. Nervous Much?

**I am SOOO sorry this is going out so late. MAJOR Writer's Block.**

**Also, I want to give a shoutout to liveloveICONicBoyz8 who was the first (but unfortunately ONLY) review on my story. Thank you, and this chapter's for you!**

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><p><strong>Chapter 2<strong>

P.O.V: Jason

I was the last person to get off the plane, since I was too far in my own head to notice what else was going on. It wasn't until I felt Madison tapping on my shoulder, a second away from yanking out of my seat, that I snapped out of it.

For some reason I just couldn't get the picture out of my head. The picture of... that _girl_.

_Chloe Harper,_ I thought, _as if I would be allowed to forget her name._

**Name: Chloe Harper  
>Age: 10<br>Current Status: Missing**

I just couldn't understand why I was making her seem so important. It's not like there was anything _unique_ about her. She looked like just a normal, tanned brunette that I see by the hundreds back in Jersey.

Or maybe she didn't.

Maybe it was the way that, despite it being just a normal school picture, her skin seemed to glow, as if she was sitting on the beach and the sun was hitting her face perfectly. Or maybe it was the way her eyes were a really light brown, making her pupils stick out even more. Maybe it even had do with how the bottom of the picture cut short the end of her hair, making it look endless...

_Oh, GOD! _I thought. It was these kinds of confusing situations when I wished I were 6 years old again. Back when I just thought girls were _icky _and avoided them.

I walked out to find the whole crew, circled around the luggage that kept rotating duffels and suitcases around a conveyor belt. While everyone was rummaging around to organize their stuff, I noticed Thomas sitting along the benches, two suitcases and duffel already surrounding him.

Confused by the detached look on his face, I walked toward him. By the time I was less than a foot away from him, he still didn't even notice my shadow, and was staring at nothing.

"How'd you get your luggage so fast?" I blurted out softly, trying to diffuse the tension.

His stance stiffened a bit at my voice. "Guess I'm just really fast." He mumbled, an irritated tone forming in his voice.

"Thomas, what's wrong?" I asked.

"Nothing," he muttered. "It's just..." His voice began to get louder, more outraged. "Am I the only one that's kind of freaked out by this? By one of our competitors getting basically _slaughtered_?"

I was taken aback by his tone. It was a very rare feat to see Thomas Miceli mad. "What are you talking about? Of course we're scared."

"Really?" He said unconvinced. "Seven girls who were supposed to be getting off a plane by now, living the dream like we are, died. They're either dead, or missing without a trace, and all you guys are focused on is how _hot the girls are_."

I couldn't think of anything to say in my defense. Either way, I knew Tommy was right. _Why do the __quiet ones__ always make the most sense? _

_"'_I-um...You're right man. I'm sorry." I confessed. "The truth is, we're all really freaked out. I guess it's just... kind of a way to get our mind off of it, you know?"

Thomas began to stand up, seeing everybody get their luggage off the conveyor belt. He turned and looked right in my eyes. "It's not just that. I mean...it's like what the newscaster said. Maybe it wasn't a coincidence. Maybe... maybe it's somehow linked to ABDC."

I scrunched my eyebrows together. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, what if it's not just some deranged, drunken lunatic who did it for no reason?" He looked around to make sure no one else was listening, and began whispering. "What if... they're trying to _eliminate the competition_?"

I could feel my breath getting a bit heavier. "T-money-"

"And who's to say that it won't happen again. Maybe-" his lip began to quiver. "Maybe we're next on the list..."

"_Stop!_" I probably said a bit too loudly. "You're really starting to creep me out."

He started to look away, letting out a deep breath, and shook his head in denial. "Sorry. Just a feeling."

I was silent for a second, with my forehead in my hands, silently trying to convince myself that there was _no_ way that someone was going to kill us. For some reason, it was talking a while for me to do so.

"I really don't think that's going to happen.' I tried to convince him, and myself for that matter. "I mean, if it really _is_ about the show, it most likely would have happened _here_, in L.A., where the entire show is being placed. It wouldn't have happened in Memphis, which is basically 2,000 miles away from_ anything _important_._"

After I said that, his posture began to become less stiff. "You're probably right." He began to walk toward the group. "I'm probably just getting paranoid."

Suddenly, he stopped, and turned back toward me, with a grin on his face. "By the way, you're right."

I couldn't recall what he was referring to. "Right about what?"

"Chloe really _is_ the cute one."

After that, he walked away, thankfully before he could see my face turning fire engine red.

Within a couple of minutes, I followed him, trying to shake the voice in my head, constantly asking the same question.

_What if he's _not _paranoid?_

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><p><strong>Expect the next chapter to come out later tonight. Love ya!<strong>


	4. Her Heart's Stopping, His is Racing

**I feel really good about this chapter. Hope you do, too!**

**Reminder: Reviews are love. **

Disclaimer: I do not own ICONic Boyz.

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><p><em>Chapter 3<em>

_P.O.V. Nick_

_After managing to get our entire luggage in place, we made our way outside the airport. It only took us a few minutes of looking at our surroundings to realize we had no idea where we were supposed to go._

_"Okay" I said. "What are we supposed to do now?"_

_Madison's mom began reading the paper that was sent to us. "It says that we're supposed to have a driver by 8:30."_

_"Well, it's 8:45 right now." I said, frustrated. If it's one thing I do not like, it's waiting._

_"Dude, chill." Madison said. "I don't think being 10 minutes late will kill us."_

_I crossed my arms, and let out a tense breath. "10 more minutes, and I'm hitchhiking."_

_"You are not hitchhiking 10 miles to the hotel." _

_"I'm not bluffing." I insisted. "I seriously will do it."_

"Why don't you put a hold on that." Madison's mom said. "Look who's here."

We all looked at where she was pointing. In our line of thought, we saw a dude, probably in his twenties, wearing a black suit and black newsboy hat. In his hand, he was holding a makeshift sign saying in black letters "ICONic Boyz."

Shrugging, we all walked toward him, and as we got closer, he looked and our direction and smiled.

"Iconic Boyz?" He asked, knowingly.

We all nodded nervously in response.

He put his hand out, shaking all of ours, his smile getting bigger. "Welcome to Los Angeles. I'm Alex, and I'll be your chauffer for the next couple of months." He turned his shoulders to the left. "The limos are coming up right now."

Apparently, I didn't hear him correctly. "Did you just say limos."

"Yes I did."

Mikey seemed to agree with me. "As in...plural?" He asked. "Like, _more than one_?"

"Yes, sir." He said, a light chuckle in his voice. "One is for the crew members, and the other one is for your parents."

A smile appeared on all of our faces. _Half an hour without our parents near us. _I thought. _I like this guy._

Before we knew it, we began to see two large, fluorescent white objects careening their way toward us. All of a sudden, our vision encountered two stretch H2 Hummer limos on the street in front of us.

After getting out of my shock, I slowly looked around to see the rest of the crew. It turns out that their eyes were the size of fishbowls, and their jaws were practically dragging on the cement. Not only that, but I could have sworn I saw Louis drooling.

Alex seemed to find our reactions funny. "I'm guessing this is your first time in a limo?"

"Pretty much," I decided to tell him. I figured riding in a hearse for my grandpa's funeral didn't count.

"Well, then. If you just hand me your luggage, we'll be on our way."

After he stacked all of our bags in the two trunks, we all got ourselves into the limo, nearly getting a stroke from what was on the inside.

There were ceiling lights, dimmed down with shades of blue and purple, flashing on the light blue, plushy seats that could easily be mistaken for pimped-out couches. A black, flashing stereo system was arranged across from the seats, and on top of a personal candy and soda bar was a small, plasma TV screen. All of it was adorned on top of a checkered, bright white and black disco floor.

"Um, are we dead?" Mikey blurted out, still in awe. No one bothered to answer him, still staring at the unbelievable interior.

Suddenly, a humorous voice came from the outside, startling us.

"You know," Alex said nicely. "You're allowed to go inside."

Immediately, we all pushed each other inside and sat down on the seats, sighing at how great they felt. We barely noticed that Alex was still with us.

"I see you guys are having fun."

"Oh, HELL yeah," Madison said smiling, causing all of us to giggle.

"Great," Alex replied. "Before we go, I have to warn you that it might be a bumpy ride. We're about 15 minutes behind schedule, so I'm going to have to speed."

"That's cool," I moaned, not exactly giving a damn about how fast or slow the ride was. Strangely, I felt the impulse to ask him a question. "Why did it take so long, anyway?"

"Oh, I had some issues finding you. I was actually expecting to pick up another dance crew, which explains the Hummer's color scheme."

"Which crew were you supposed to pick up?" Madison asked.

"I think their name was... Basement Racket, or something."

The mention of the name caused me to twitch a bit, and gave me a huge lump in my throat, like what happens after you dry-swallow a huge pill. Everyone's faces faltered, their admiration of the car disappearing within the time span of half a second.

"I guess they just got the jitters and quit, you know what I mean." Alex said, apparently oblivious to what was reported this morning.

We managed to make strained smiles, and let out faltered laughs, desperate for him to leave. As he finally slammed the door shut, all of our bodies hunched over, suddenly feeling heavy and exhausted.

_This was supposed to be _their _limo._

"Guys, what are we doing?" Madison suddenly asked to no one in particular. "We're acting depressed in a kick-ass limo that _Paris Hilton _most likely can't even afford!"

Our heads slowly rose up, giving him our attention as he continued.

"Sure, it kinda feels like we're riding in a bunch of teenage corpses' whip," he couldn't help but admit "but we've gotta remember, _we're still here._"

After about ten seconds, looking nervously around each other in silence, Louis stood up. "Who are we?"

We all remained silent not sure how to answer.

"Who are we?" he repeated, irritated.

Eventually, we got it. "The ICONic Boyz!" we chanted.

"Who are we?"

"THE ICONIC BOYZ!"

"WHY ARE WE HERE?"

"TO WIN!"

Thanks to that, the space was once again filled with loud voices, and energetic laughter. It was like we all forgot about the murdered crew.

Well, _most _of us, at least.

I tried to change the subject in my head. Instead of thinking of the negative things, I thought about some positive stuff. Stuff like... like Olivia Baker.

**Name: Olivia Baker**  
><strong>Age: 14<strong>  
><strong>Status: Missing in Action<strong>

I instead focused on how shiny her long blond hair was, like a field of silk pouring down her shoulders. I tried to picture how ridiculously big her icy blue eyes were, piercing through the image of her own picture. I imagined her light skin, and how soft it probably would have felt on the tips of my fingers.

_Ugghh, Maybe Lou's right_, I groaned to myself. _I'm turning necro-friggin-philic!_

After what seemed to be only ten minutes, we found ourselves in front of a hotel, which had a faint sound of violins coming out of it. Alex opened the door, letting us all out.

"Welcome to the Sheraton Gateway," he said with a smile. "You'll be having a meeting tomorrow at the ABDC studio. I'll be picking you guys up at 9:00 sharp, so get a good night's sleep."

After our moms checked us all in, we found our way to one of the top floors. I couldn't help but admit, as nice as the rooms we're, it was kind of an epic disappointment after the limo ride.

We spent hours fighting for dibs on the best beds, and as soon as night fell on us, we ended up simply falling asleep on each other.

Despite all that I did in the car ride, my mind was still filled with dreams of Olivia Baker.

Only this time, her gorgeous skin and hair was stained and matted, with a heavy amount of her own blood.

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><p>P.O.V: Vinny<p>

I was in a deep sleep when, all of a sudden, a strange noise filled my ears.

Unable to ignore it, I pushed myself up, carefully shoving Jason's face off my stomach. I looked around to try and hear it again, only to hear silence and snoring. Just as I was about to go back to sleep, the sound reappeared again. It seemed like a series of sharp, sudden noises, going in a perfect, harmonic rhythm.

Kind of like the sound of metal tapping on bathroom tiles.

Getting creeped out, I got up, tiptoeing over Mikey and Louis, who had stretched across the carpet, toward the closed bathroom, causing the noise to get louder and louder. I put my trembling hand on the doorknob, my heart racing at the idea of what might be on the other side of the door.

Swallowing my fear, I threw the door open and hit the lights to find...

nothing.

"Oh my God," I whispered at my own paranoia.

Sighing with relief, I bent over the sink and splashed water on my hot, burning face. Looking at the mirror with blurred vision, I reached for a towel, only to touch something with an abnormal feel.

It had a soft feel to it, yet it had a really rigid core, and was freezing to the touch... just like a human arm.

Ripping my hand away from it, I felt for the soft, manufactured feel of the towl, and threw it on my face. I took it off and looked in the mirror...

to find the girl...the girl that invaded my head... in the mirror reflection behind me.

Her hair was matted with mud, dark red stains were going through her shirt, and an expression of shock appeared on her bruised face, as if she was afraid of me.

I let out a high pitched scream, causing her to do the same, and raced outside the bathroom door, and into the middle of the dark room, turning on all of the lamps I could get my trembling hands on.

Eventually, everyone woke up with pissed off groans, and found me as the culprit as they sent piercing glares toward me.

"What the hell, Vinny!" Nick shouted, dark circles forming under his eyes. "It's 2 AM!"

"Guys, there's a dead girl in the bathroom!"

They looked at me as if I just told them that the sky was purple. "What?"

"That girl from the Dance Crew... D-D-Demetria Harper..." I said in a stuttered mess of panic "She-She-she's in the bathroom!"

Reluctantly, Mikey got up, shoved me hard out of the way, and opened the bathroom door.

"See?" He barked. "Nothing."

I managed to sneak a peek into the flourescent lights, to find that the room was completely empty.

I looked at my tired, irritated friends. "I-I swear to God, I saw her!" I said in my defense. "Sh-she she covered in mud, and her shirt was all bloody, and-"

"No one is here but us," Thomas snapped, shoving his head in his pillow. "Now just turn off the damn lights and go to bed!"

In defeat, I turned them off, and climbed onto the bed, with my heart still racing. I couldn't help but repeat the thought in my head, _I could have sworn I saw her._

After hours of sitting in fright, I managed to fall into another uneven sleep, still hearing the subtle tapping noise before I went under.

* * *

><p><strong>Dun, Dun...DUNNNN!<strong>

**I got goose bumps last right just writing this story last night. You know you did a kick-butt job when you scare **_**yourself**_**. Keep your eyes open for the next chapter.**


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